


rightful place

by abunai (orphan_account)



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Dubious Consent, Glory Hole, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slut Shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 17:23:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18480856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/abunai
Summary: komaeda has a conversation with hinata in the reserve course bathroom





	rightful place

Rumors reach even Komaeda's ears.

He's not close with his classmates - he doesn't believe he deserves to be, when he's spent more time in detention or on suspension than in class, not to mention his meager “talent” which pales in comparison to his peers - but even _he's_ heard talk of the reserve course girls. They lift their skirts, they drop to their knees, they flash old men; all for a couple dollars to go towards their classes.

Komaeda wonders why they're so willing to sell themselves out just for over glorified, improperly taught public classes - wonders until - 

and this has him laughing out loud and gaining weird looks from kids in the reserve course hallway - 

until he remembers reserve course girls wouldn't have a drop of sense in their brains, anyway. They were people with no talent, with no shred of hope coursing through their pathetic plastic veins. Carbon factory produced little toys, except they got the honor of Hope's Peak Academy's emblem being branded into their synthetic skin.

They really weren't worth his while. Let them look - let them make fun - but Komaeda knew he was miles above the hoard of nobodies flooding the hallway. Even while he was worthless, a measly little bit of luck his only saving grace, at least he had been accepted legitimately - at least the brand on his back was real.

At least Komaeda wasn't on his hands and knees on the filthy bathroom floor.

The reserve course bathroom looked like any other at Hope's Peak, but it smelled like the back of a dog's kennel, the way it should - the average person had as much sense as a common mutt, and it was only natural they acted as such.

It was a routine he wished he wasn't so skilled at preforming - a well practiced motion of walking to the stall second from the far right, rapping on the graffiti covered divider (what filthy things were written on it, disgusting words only a degenerate could spout with a smile on their face), tapping his foot impatiently on the stained tile (and oh how he hoped they cleaned it, now, but he knew he'd have to burn his favorite shoes at the end of the day, the same he'd done with his former pair). Komaeda's lips turned down with every passing second, and by the third he could feel his lower canine poking against his upper lip in a snarl.

Then a similar knock came from the other side.

Komaeda could see their knees when he peeked down under the stall - covered in the black material of the male uniform, just as he'd suspected.

Was this how low of a person Komaeda was? He'd thought himself better - he'd wished himself better - but everyone looked at him with only contempt, and surely, more talented, more beautiful people would be able to tell better than someone as pathetic as himself.

They all knew Komaeda was a freak, a disgusting dumpster fire of a person who could only have someone's mouth on him if it were for the exchange of a few dollars. How sad was he, sliding some money hungry boy-whore cash on piss stained tile, unbuckling his belt with shaking (nervous? excited? anxious?) hands, his pants falling down around his bony ankles. 

"You know," Komaeda says, when his hips are almost flush with the grey plastic partition, "There's better ways to pay off tuition than sucking dick in the bathroom stall. I've heard - ah," heat encircles the head of his cock. Komaeda clenches his teeth, but not quick enough before a hiss comes out, and maybe it would lessen his insult if Komaeda were anyone but himself, and if the boy's mouth belonged to anyone else. "You know, I've heard camming pays well, nowadays. it's become popular with the girls. Ah, but what would your girlfriend say if she saw you, spreading yourself for grey-haired perverts, all pixelated on the screen? Maybe she would finally realize how _worthless_ you are." he emphasizes the word, and hopes his breathlessness will be confused for mocking, rather than excitement.

There's no reply.

A hand wraps around the base of Komaeda's cock, a tongue sliding over the tip. The boy dips his head lower, taking him farther into his mouth, wet and soft and warm, awful and gut wrenching in all the ways Komaeda wishes it wouldn't be. 

"You shouldn't even be with her. Everyone feels sorry for her. We all pity her for - for stooping so low as to date someone like you. There's not even a little shred of dignity in your body."

Komaeda feels a little guilty for even letting a classmate's face come to mind.

"Well, you - you know. You know you don't deserve her, I'm sure?" Komaeda's voice wavers, "You're low, but, you're low in a way i would have never imagined - haha, sorry! that wasn't supposed to be a pun," he feels like he's burning, shame and the embarrassingly quick release mixing in his stomach, and it almost feels like he's going to vomit, be it from anger at himself or disgust with the boy sitting on the floor, "You're - you're really no good, you know that? Not even good enough to have the Hope's Peak emblem on your blazer. A symbol like that shouldn't be for common sluts, who contribute nothing to the world. You're not even fit to throw money at this school - you can take your cum stained money somewhere else, because," he can't stop his mouth from running. He knows if he stops talking all that will come out is moans, instead, and he can't give out that kind of satisfaction.

He can feel his dick twitch under the boy's tongue, can feel every little beat of his heart in sync with the bobbing motion of his head.

"Because, _Hajime_ ," he hisses out his first name, like a curse off the tip of his tongue in tandem with the awful, horrible way Hinata chokes back a gag when Komaeda's hips hit the plastic with a click. He feels the constricting tight heat of Hinata's throat, and with every thrust the gags grow louder. "Even with the little Hope's Peak academy certificate of graduation, no college would ever look twice at you. You'll end up back on your knees again, mouth full of some old dean's dick - but that's what you want, isn't it? You don't care how or who, you just want men to use you, isn't that right?"

And when Hinata slams his fist against the partition Komaeda swears it feels the same as if it were against his jaw - or maybe he parts it open too wide when he comes, Hinata's first name rolling off of it as natural as if they were something like lovers.

When he gets home he brushes his teeth five times and washes his clothes the same, as if somehow the repetitive motions will end the cycle - as if he won't end up in the second stall from the right next Friday, Hinata's hands curling around another wad of cash and Komaeda's around the leather of his belt.

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes you have to live life like it's 2013 and write bad komahina porn for no particular reason


End file.
